The Love Song of Norman Bates: One Step After
by Vema
Summary: Thirty years after the epilogue of "The Love Song of Norman Bates", Norman and Norma deal with life, their children, and a debilitating disease they hadn't seen coming. The tragic and lovely end of my universe.
1. Chapter 1

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The Love Song of Norman Bates:

One Step After

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This is going to a work in MAJOR PROGRESS. It's the end of Norma and Norman's story in the Love Song universe and is set 30 years after the epilogue of the original story. I love Norma and Norman, and I want them to have a lovely, wonderful sending off from the mortal coil.

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This will be ANGSTY and BITTERSWEET, and I hope you can all stay with me. As always, **ALittleTasteOfMadness** is a lovely muse, and deserves so many accolades! And **bates-angela** on Tumblr will be very pleased with bits of this fanfiction for sure... I try to make everything in this very realistic; let me know if you notice any glaring errors, and have a lovely read!

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Norman gently pulled the comb through his hair, regarding the salt-and-pepper strands dispassionately. The blue sweater he was wearing set off his eyes, and a belt and trousers finished his ensemble. He looked much the same as he had decades ago, a lifetime ago in White Pine Bay, but for the gray hair and wrinkles. His thoughts turned briefly to the motel, and the series of events that had led them to flee to France so many years before

Looking in the mirror now, he saw his mother behind him, perfect and shining as though in a dream, all blonde hair and bare shoulders. She always looked the same in his hallucinations, just as she had looks in Oregon before they had admitted their feelings to each ohter. "You should have listened to me, Norman," she said ominously.

"Stop talking. Your not real." He adjusted his collar and purposefully moved his gaze, willing himself to not acknowledge her.

"If you'd killed that editor thirty years ago, none of this would have happened."

Her voice echoed around him. "I said that's enough! Killing Derek wouldn't have stopped William and Nancy-" He cut himself off and turned to open the door, leaving the golden apparition behind. It was best not to respond to her.

It was only a few steps to the stairs, a few more into the kitchen, and he saw his real mother. Norma sat at the table, her hair, long gone white, curling around her face in shiny ringlets. She was pouring tea into two matching cups with a shaking hand, deep blue with pink and gold accents with tiny cracks in the old ceramic coating. Snow fell silently outside the windows, frosting the glass, but it was warm inside, and the sight of her beloved face filled him with contentment.

Norman smiled as he saw the teapot, remembering a very special night indeed. "Here, Mother, let me help," he said quietly, taking the antique teapot from her.

"I could have finished it," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Maybe I like taking care of you." He finished pouring the Chai and placed the teapot down carefully before pouring a splash of milk into each cup. He pushed one towards her, meeting her eyes.

Norma shot him one of her bright smiles, still breathtaking after all these years. "Oh, Norman," she said softly, gripping his hand with withered fingers. "I love you so much."

He looked into her ice-blue gaze and leaned forward to give her a kiss on her lips and then her wrinkly cheek. "Me too, always." He gave her a quick grin. "When will the kids be here?" he asked quietly, sipping his tea.

"Nancy and Will should be here any time, but I'm not sure about Susan and Marc." Norma looked behind her, the muscles in her neck and shoulders protesting. "I need to work on the Yule log, and the turkey needs basting..."

"I'll get the turkey, but otherwise, just wait for William to help," he cautioned her. The tea cup clinked against its saucer as he put it down, and he quickly opened the oven to brush the turkey with its own juices. By the time he got back to the table, she had covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. "What is it?" Norman asked, kneeling beside her.

"I can't even make dinner for my children anymore," she whispered, reaching out for him, and he caught her in his arms. "How much worse will it be when... when..."

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay." They both knew it wasn't. "I'll be with you for all of it, you know that." He held her, wishing he could somehow use his arms to protect her from this menace, but the problem was on the inside.

"That'll be horrible for you," she said tearfully.

"It would be worse knowing where you were and not seeing you at all." He felt his heart beat painfully in his chest, imagining how terrible it would be when she no longer knew who he was. How much more anguish would he feel when she didn't remember the life they had led together?

The diagnosis had just come in two days ago; dementia. The same disease that had claimed her mother in the end. Her initial reaction had been extreme, of course, consisting of acting a bit like a child having a tantrum. After a few days, though, she let him hold her and suggest various strategies to hold off the progression.

They would have to tell their children on this visit though, there was no avoiding that.

Norma dried her eyes quickly; she'd rarely had occasion to cry over the preceding years, thanks to Norman. "I'm sorry. I promise to stay positive."

Meeting her eyes with a smile, he stood and pulled her with him. "Come on, Mom," he said, moving towards the front door. "Let's go sit in the swing and enjoy the snow while we wait."

A few minutes later, they were outside on their white porch swing, each wearing a coat, gloves, and hat. They were also snuggled together under and on top of a series of comforters and quilts, arms and legs entangled. The cold air bit at their cheeks and noses, but every other part of them was warm. A white canopy overhead protected them from the calm but huge flakes that were falling in the dark silence of the the winter night.

Snow was rare in their area, being so close to the ocean. The thought of having a white Christmas was obviously giving Norma peace and joy, so he was trying to help her enjoy it as much as she could. She snuggled into his strong frame with a satisfied sigh, and his arms tightened around her. After a few minutes, the setting sun highlighting the glittering top layer of snow, she spoke. The snow muffled all the sounds around them, the night nearly soundless. "Do you think things would have turned out this way if the kids didn't know about us?" she asked quietly.

Norman jerked, startled to hear words so similar to his hallucination's coming from his real mother. "Yes, I do," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Look at us." He kissed her nose before rubbing his against hers. "We didn't have any role models that influenced us, right?"

Norma shrugged and settled against him again. "No, but... I suppose it doesn't matter as long as they're all happy."

Later, in the darkness, they spotted headlights coming up the drive. In a few moments, a taxi had pulled up, and three figures emerged. A tall, blonde man with broad shoulders and striking blue eyes was first. Turning, he waved as he reached back in the door, and seconds later was pulling a little dark-haired boy out of the seat. The toddler began running up the drive toward them as the final occupant of the taxi emerged; a delicate, thin girl with her father's dark hair and demeanor, who was so hugely pregnant that she would be forgiven for toppling over, were it to occur.

"Meme, Pepe!"

Norma and Norman flipped down their blankets as one, and Norma held her arms out. "Allons, Michel!" Norma exclaimed, and she laughingly welcomed him into her arms as Norman pulled the blankets back up around all of them. He let his own chuckle out and kissed his grandson's forehead.

"Mmmmm... Warm..." The little boy said, burrowing between them.

"Hey!" William was supporting Nancy's back as they slowly came up the sidewalk after their son. "Room for one more?"

"Here." Norman gave his mother and grandson one more squeeze and stood, letting his daughter snuggle between the comforters with them. "Come inside, we need some help in the kitchen." He turned and kissed Norma gently. "We'll be right inside, okay?"

"Okay." She was quiet, eyes crinkling up at him with peace.

Norman looked back out at the little group in the falling snow as he went back inside with his oldest, thinking he hadn't seen his mother so happy in a long time.

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To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Thank you so much for my reviews, friends! Edifying, this will be a lovely, sad fic, so get ready! And your question will be answered in this chapter. Speisla Cartoon Cartoon, welcome to the Love Song bus! Check out the original and offshoots and ENJOY! I'm so glad you're with us.

Let me know what you think, and read on!

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It was a lucky thing that William was a chef; he took one look at what Norma had already done and immediately got to work finishing. He poured the already prepared dry ingredients for the Yule log into a mixing bowl and began cutting in the butter. "Pere, hand me two eggs from the fridge, would you?" he asked offhandedly, and the mannerism was so much like Norma that Norman felt his heart jump with affection.

He hurried to get the eggs, willing the stinging in his eyes back so he wouldn't cry. "How are you and Nancy getting along in Marseille?" he asked, hoping to distract himself.

"We're doing okay." He gave his father a hesitant smile. "We're getting to know people, but we haven't told anyone about us yet."

Norman laughed. "You think they don't know you're together?" he asked, with a wry smile, purposefully misunderstanding. "She's hugely pregnant and you have a son who calls you Mom and Dad!"

"No, no that," William laughed. "I mean, we haven't said we're siblings."

"I know." Norman watched him stirring quietly for a moment. "We didn't tell anyone until you were almost three." He thought of his mother and daughter out on the porch swing. "Nancy was a toddler, and you were barely out of diapers."

"Pere," William protested.

Norman stopped himself from reminiscing further, visions of a little blonde bouncing boy fading into his memory. "You just need to feel them out. You'll have a much easier time than Mother and I," he reassured his son. "After all, it's a lot more accepted now than it was even ten years ago, let alone thirty."

They talked for a while longer, about the restaurant, and how Michel was doing in preschool, and Nancy's art gallery while William wound his way around the kitchen artfully crafting a meal that would have taken Norman the whole day. Around an hour later, as the Turkey was cooling on the oven, the front door opened and the sound of little feet came rushing into the kitchen, and Norman's chest was splattered with wet snow.

"I got you, bon-papa!"

Norman wiped the snow of his now freezing chest and laughed. "Well, you certainly did!" he exclaimed.

Nancy came around the corner. "Michel, nous allons se changer avant le dîner."

"Oh, let me do that for you," came Norma's voice.

"You don't have to-" began Nancy.

"But I want to," Norma interrupted her daughter, and smiling at Norman, she took Michel by the hand. "Tu veux le pyjama avec les dinosaures ou les camions?"

"Camions!"

As Norma and Michel walked up the stairs, Norman followed after, unbuttoning his soaked shirt.

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When dinner was over, and Michel was asleep, they finally shared their sad news.

"Are you sure?" William was leaning forward, tears streaming down his cheeks; he'd always been more emotional than his sisters. Nancy sat next to him, stroking his back with nearly dry eyes except for an almost indiscernible sparkle that caught in the light.

"Yes," Norma said firmly. "We're talking to the best doctors and working on diet and activities that are supposed to slow down the progression." She took his hands, tears streaming down her face as well. "But who knows how long I have? We just thought you all should know..."

Norman glanced over at Susan and her boyfriend, Marc. Suzy was teary, but seemed to be waiting for others to ask her questions as she clutched her hands in front of her, and Marc was completely lost and overwhelmed next to her. This was a bad time for them to be meeting her new boyfriend, but it hadn't been planned this way.

Placing his arm firmly around Norma's shoulder, he took a deep breath before speaking. "It's bad, we can all agree. The important thing is taking advantage of the time we have left, and taking advantage of the treatments that are available. She's going to be taking some medication that might help ward it off, but if the side effects are too severe..." He trailed off, catching his mother's eye and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"We should move closer," Susan announced, turning frantically to Marc. "Nous ne pouvons pas rester Limousin maintenant!"

"Susan," Norma stalled her, "You shouldn't just move home because I'm sick! Marc's job is down there, and-"

"Tais-toi, nous en parlerons plus tard!"Marc said forcefully, and Norman shot him a dark look.

After thirty years in France, he had a decent grasp of the language. Turning his whole body towards his youngest daughter, Norman saw Mother appear behind her paramour. The apparition dragged her finger across his neck, her face turning to a grotesque death mask, but Marc didn't react. "Vous ne serez pas parler ainsi à ma fille!" Norman whispered dangerously.

The boy looked shocked at this sudden change in tone and demeanor, but Norma took her son's hand and tried to calm him, searching his face. "Mon coeur?" she asked, a note of hope and desperation in her voice. "Please, my love, not now."

Norman turned his gaze back to William and Nancy, who were huddled together, nearly mimicking their parents. Nancy glared dangerously at Marc herself, half hidden behind her brother. "It's going to be okay," he said, swallowing down the murderous rage that threatened to bubble up from his belly. Norma's hand stroking his back calmed him a bit. "We're a family, and we're going to get through this," he said shakily.

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In the end, it was easier for Norman to purchase them a small condo in Marseille. The warmer air was easier on Norma's joints, and they were close enough to see their grandchildren whenever the wished. Norma couldn't get enough of them; she loved tickling Michel and rocking tiny Olivie, their new granddaughter. Norman was only working on one piece of writing now, and it wasn't something that needed to be finished by a fast deadline, or so he hoped. Often he and Norma would keep the kids while William ran his restaurant and Nancy showed her work.

The medication Norma was on seemed to be effective, though she did have some trouble with dehydration and sleeplessness. She went to theatre workshops and dancing lessons in the evenings, some of which Norman attended with her. Over the intervening months, it seemed like things were settling, and Norma's illness was under control.

Norman sat at his computer, scratching his head as he wondered how to start this chapter. It was an important one, one where his protagonists moved towards their destined end, and though he remembered it well he felt stuck. He didn't quite know how to explain what had happened exactly; the emotions were very complex, and very deep. He took a breath, closed his laptop, and went to the nursery they had in a small room off the den, thinking to find his mother as the children slept and enjoy and snuggle on the couch.

He heard a sniffle. and he shot forward. As he entered, and found her gently rocking Olivie and weeping as Michel slept on a little cot to the side. "Mother, what is it?" he whispered, rushing quietly to her side.

Norma glanced up and then back down at her granddaughter. "I can't... I don't remember their names," she choked out.

This was it; the beginning of what they were both fearing. His heart froze over as he thought of the inevitable day when his own mother and wife wouldn't remember who he was, before he steeled himself. She was still Norma, and she was scared, and it was his job to fix it.

Carefully taking the baby and setting her in the crib, Norman forced himself to stay calm. With a deep breath, he took her in his arms and let her cry.

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To Be Continued...


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